


Eyes on Me

by Lavenderaesthetic



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Foursome - M/M/M/M, Multi, OT7, Phone Sex (kinda), Poly!Losers, Richie likes being watched, Voyeurism, implied Poly!Losers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 12:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavenderaesthetic/pseuds/Lavenderaesthetic
Summary: Richie and Bill quickly glance at the door, being opened by Ben.“Hey, Bill. I need to borrow-” Ben’s eyes widen, and he goes red. He opens his mouth and closes it repeatedly, frozen on the spot.“Hey, Ben.” Richie says casually, batting his lashes.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier/Ben Hanscom, Richie Tozier/Bill Denbrough, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris, Stanley Uris/Bill Denbrough
Comments: 13
Kudos: 458
Collections: Poly Losers Club Fic Exchange





	Eyes on Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for punk-rock-yuppie for the Poly!Losers fic exchange and this was prompt #3  
Enjoy :)

Richie Tozier was bored.   
_Intensely_ bored.   
The kind of bored that envelops your whole body and eats at your brain. The kind of bored that is all consuming. The kind of bored that really packs a punch if you don’t do anything about it, that threatens to drive a person insane.   
Like if he didn’t find something to do _right_ _now_, he would _literally_ _die_. 

And no he was  _ not _ being dramatic. Richie Tozier was  _ never _ dramatic. 

He was laid out on his bed, his head hanging over the side. Not far enough for the blood to rush, but just enough so that it was uncomfortable. 

He was still in his work clothes, which were just jeans and a scruffy t shirt. The moment he had walked through the front door, he had kicked off his shoes. Quite literally, kicked. He almost knocked over a lamp. 

For the past hour or so, he had been trying to count all the popcorn on his ceiling. He had got to 30, and then started again, since Richie was horrid at focusing on anything. 

Every few minutes, lying on his bed, when he would start the counting over again, he would let out a groan of frustration in the empty room, as if that was _the_ _something_ that would end his problem. Like it was something to do. 

Days like this were always so boring for him.    
It was a Wednesday afternoon, which meant that everyone, except for Bill and himself, were at work or in class. Richie got home early on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and Bill worked from home most of the time. 

On days like today, Bill would lock himself in his room all day to concentrate on writing. He usually kept his door completely closed, to eliminate any and all distractions, which  _ included _ his six partners. Bill was easily distractible, especially when it came to the other six people he lived with. Especially  _ especially _ when it was Stan or Richie. 

But today, Richie had noticed that the door was cracked open. He had passed it multiple times, hearing the soft tapping of Bill’s fingers on the keys of his laptop, debating on going in or not. Richie would try to leave him alone to work, really not wanting to break Bill’s focus. He got stressed so easily, especially about his work. He would get intense knots in his back, his fingers would cramp from typing, since, when he was on edge, he would basically slam them on the keys with every letter he typed. His eyes would become sore from staring at the screen so intently. And then there was his behavior. When he was thinking about work, Bill was easily irritated. So, Richie tried to give him space to work. It was Richie’s job as one of his lovers to help with his stress, not to worsen it. 

Most of the time, he wouldn’t bother Bill, as to not irritate him, with the exception of offering him food or water. It was easy for Bill to forget stuff like that while he was engrossed in his work. He once went 16 hours without leaving his desk. 

But, today.    
Today, Richie was really bored. He needed a distraction.    
And Bill’s been working for seven solid hours since the last time Richie saw him take a break. So, Richie figured, Bill really needed a distraction, too.   
And Richie really wanted to  _ be _ that distraction.   
He pulls himself off of his bed, and makes his way down the hallway of their house towards Bill’s room. The hall was littered with pictures of the seven of them on various occasions. His eyes lingered on one, specifically, where the seven of them were at the beach. They were all sitting on towels, with umbrellas giving them shade. The picture was taken by Richie, who held it in a selfie fashion. He had somehow managed to catch all of them in the photo, and Beverly had insisted that they frame it.    
Richie was sitting next to Beverly, who was kissing his cheek while he mock gasped. Ben was behind Beverly, smiling that trademark Hanscom smile he always had. That smile, on many occasions, had charmed each and every one of them. Ben always smiled that like in pictures. Just so genuine and full of love. 

Eddie was leaning his arm on Ben’s shoulder, his face scrunched up from yelling at Richie about not putting on sunscreen and that he wasn’t going to put any cream on his burned skin. Mike was resting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder, his eyes closed in a soft, pleased expression. Bill was sitting next to Bev, looking at Eddie with an amused grin, since he was the one who brought up Richie’s lack of sun protection. And Stanley was sitting right behind Mike, wearing his sunglasses and a sun hat, acting like he didn’t know any of them, reading. 

After Richie had taken the photo, Beverly had snatched his phone, demanding to see it. She had been really proud of it, and so was everyone else. Except Eddie, who vehemently protested to framing it because he said he looked  _ insane _ with his face like that. 

“I look like a psychopath!” He had said, wiping sand off of his arm. 

“That’s because you are one.” Stan had quipped, turning the page of whatever magazine he had been reading. And then Eddie was yelling at Stan ‘who’re _you_ calling a psychopath?!’ and such things like that, while Bev had been studying the picture with a loving expression. Eddie then told her repeatedly that there was _no_ _way_ it was going up in their house. 

But they hung it up anyway.    
Richie continued down the hall until he reached Bill’s room. The door was still cracked open, but Richie wasn’t hearing the tacking of the keys like he usually did.    
Richie should probably knock, he guesses. He should probably push the door open slowly, as to not upset Bill. Or break his focus.    
But that wasn’t very  _ Richie _ .   
He swung the door open, and it hit the wall with a loud  _ bang _ .   
“Hey, Big Bill! How’s it writing?” 

Richie strides into the room. Bill is sitting at his desk, on his rolling chair, with his laptop open in front of him. Richie can see that he’s no longer typing. The screen is filled with words, and he can see that Bill is scanning it, looking for errors. 

Bill doesn’t physically react. He just keeps staring at his screen, scrolling down slowly, stopping, typing a word or two, and then scrolling again.    
“Hey, Rich.” He says absentmindedly, and Richie sighs dramatically, hoping to gain his attention.    
Bill doesn’t react to it or say anything else, so Richie skips over to his desk chair. He grabs the back of it, pulling it down to lean over Bill. Bill still doesn’t move, and Richie pouts. Bill never ignores him. In fact, Bill is the one who ignores him the least. He shakes the chair back and forth, Bill’s body pliantly moving along with it. Bill suddenly grips the desk, sighing.    
“I’m t-trying to work, Rich.” Bill grumbles out. 

“And I’m trying to not be bored!” Richie whines and Bill shakes his head and chuckles at that.

“G-go find something else to d-do.” 

“There  _ is _ nothing else!” Richie whines. He rocks the chair more forcefully now, Bill’s spine slapping against the leather. Bill grips the desk harder, his knuckles white, trying to stop the rocking.    
“ _ Richie _ .”    
“Yessir?”    
Bill looks up at him, a small annoyed frown on his face. Richie leans farther over him and kisses Bill’s nose. Richie pulls back when Bill doesn’t laugh at that. He thinks for a moment that he’s actually pissed Bill off, that he’s pushed a little too much. But Bill’s frown breaks and he smiles, swatting Richie away with a soft chuckle.    
“Richie, I’m s-serious.”    
Richie leans down again, kissing Bill’s nose. He places kisses all over Bill’s face, his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids. Bill laughs, letting it happen for a moment before pushing Richie’s face away. He covers Richie’s mouth with his palm. He smirks in victory, and then Richie licks his hand, biting softly. Bill retracts his hand quickly, laughing.    
“Stop it, Rich. I n- _ need _ to finish this. Later, ok?”    
Bill gives him a quick kiss, before sitting up in his chair, running a hand through his auburn hair before returning his hands to his laptop.    
Richie throws his head back, silently groaning in frustration. He was still bored out of his mind. And this was one hundred percent for Bill’s relaxation, of course. Richie gets absolutely nothing out of it.    
He leans down, settling his hands on Bill’s shoulders, squeezing lightly. He tucks his face in Bill’s shoulder. He kisses Bill’s neck softly, and begins to massage his shoulders.    
“Oh c’mon, Bill. You’ve been at it for  _ hours _ . You need a break.” Richie murmurs. He feels Bill lean into it for a moment, his head slightly tilting back into Richie’s touch. Bill murmurs out a quiet ‘ _ Rich _ ’ and Richie makes his kisses wetter, caressing Bill’s neck with his tongue.    
“ _ Just a little one _ .” Richie coos.    
Bill’s hands fall from the keyboard, and Richie smiles at his victory.    
Richie slides his hands down Bill’s chest, running his fingers softly over his shirt. He grabs the end of the fabric, inching it up Bill’s body. Bill chuckles, tangling his fingers in Richie’s hair. 

“What k-kind of break did you have in mind?” 

Richie scrapes his nails on Bill’s abdomen, and Bill groans softly. Richie chuckles in his ear.    
“ _ A sexy one _ .” 

Bill huffs out a laugh, but does not stop him, and Richie continues to kiss and suck on his neck. Bill tips his head all the way back onto the chair, while Richie worries a rather large bruise right on his pulse. Richie bites the purple mark, and Bill hisses at the sting of it. Bill tugs rather harshly on Richie’s curls, and Richie represses a moan, biting his lip. 

“Unless you wanna fuck me in this chair, good sir, I suggest you move.”    
Bill laughs heavily, and Richie pulls back. 

“You th-think I’m gonna fuck the boredom out of you? Is that it?” 

“Oh, I  _ hope _ so.” Richie murmurs in his ear. 

Bill hesitates for a moment, and Richie thinks he is actually going to have to go back to his room and wait for someone else to get home. But Bill closes his laptop and stands. He rounds on Richie, pushing him down on the bed. Richie laughs, running a hand through his curls, while Bill lands on top of him, their foreheads almost colliding. 

“Really got yourself worked up, huh?” 

Richie bites his lip, wiggling his eyebrows, and Bill breathes a quiet laugh against his lips, not responding. But Richie knows the answer. 

The two of them are always like this, even during their more intimate moments, playful. The other Losers often scold them for their inability to be serious, but it’s just the dynamic that they share. 

Richie tries to kiss Bill, puckering his lips comically. Bill places a firm hand on his chest, pushing him down on the mattress, a smile plastered on his face. Richie pouts, his bottom lip quivering. Bill cocks his eyebrow, his smirk growing. He leans down slightly, and Richie takes the opportunity to strike. 

He lunges, trying to bite Bill’s lip, snapping his jaw audibly. Bill flinches and laughs, dodging Richie’s attack. He pushes down harder on Richie’s chest. Richie grips his wrist, moving Bill’s hand beside them. 

Richie pulls Bill down to meet him in a sloppy kiss. Bill lets him, chuckling for a moment, until Richie’s hand tangles in his auburn hair. Richie parts his lips immediately, letting Bill’s tongue caress his own. The kiss is lazy, slow and deep. It’s wet, audibly so. Richie likes kissing Bill. He likes how it’s always so casual. It’s always firm and sluggish, unhurried. He especially likes the wet sound that their lips make when they part. He likes how Bill’s tongue drags across his. Likes how Bill’s lips pull on his. He likes how, most of the time, neither of them can stop smiling. They can never let it get too serious, only on the occasion that it’s gets kinky. One of them parts every few kisses to chuckle against the others lips, or to simply smile. 

Richie’s lips move firmly against Bill’s. He slowly drags his tongue along Bill’s bottom lip, biting it. He hears a quiet noise come from Bill’s throat. 

“ _ Glad you decided to join the party _ .” Richie murmurs. Bill huffs out a laugh. Richie rolls his hips into Bill’s, his jeans rubbing against Bill’s sweats. Richie smirks when he feels Bill’s arousal against his own. 

“_Oh_ _yeah_, you’ve _definitely_ joined the party.” 

Bill laughs shakily. Richie notices how his arms become tense. 

“Sh-shut  _ up _ , Richie.” 

“ _ Make me, Big Bill.” _

Bill’s hand snakes up to tangle in Richie’s curls. He pulls,  _ hard _ . Richie’s head falls back against the pillow. He bites his lip, hissing in pleasure, his hips moving involuntarily. Oh, that’s  _ definitely _ one way to shut him up. 

When Richie opens his eyes, Bill is smirking triumphantly down at him. Richie moves to kiss him again, but Bill pulls back, just out of reach. He sniggers as Richie keeps trying to kiss him. 

Richie grabs the waistband of Bill’s sweats, pulling their hips together. Bill’s eyes close, his brows furrowed, and Richie takes the opportunity to kiss him again. It’s a little more desperate than before. They’re both worked up now. 

Richie grinds up particularly hard, and he feels Bill tug on his locks again. He murmurs a quiet  _ fuck _ between their parted lips. When he hears that, Bill groans and presses more firmly into the kiss, and he presses his hips down harder, too. 

It’s not so casual anymore. They’re both hard now and they continue to kiss sloppily. Their hips begin to grind harder and faster into each other. 

“Damn, you really  _ are _ worked up, Bill.” 

Richie trails his hand roughly down Bill’s side. He grabs the back of his shirt, pulling it up, wanting it  _ off _ . Bill takes the hint, breaking the kiss to bring his shirt over his head. He throws it onto the floor, and Richie whips off his own. They both stop for a moment, and laugh at their eagerness. It’s not usually like this, hurried. But, the combination of Richie’s boredom and Bill desperately needing a break spurs them on. 

Bill meets Richie in a wet kiss, before diving into Richie’s neck, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin there. Richie feels his fingers tangle in his hair again, pulling harshly. Richie hisses, digging his nails into the small of Bill’s back. He feels Bill chuckle lightly against him, and he almost smacks Bill in retaliation. He grabs the waist of Bill’s sweats instead, pulling Bill’s hips closer against his own. He starts a slow grind, and Bill lets him lead his hips down on Richie’s. 

Richie starts out slow, but hard. They move languidly against each other for awhile, before Richie gets frustrated and speeds them up. He bucks his hips up and pulls Bill’s down, their rhythm getting faster and harder. Richie’s breathing speeds up, and he can feel Bill’s picking up, too. Bill moves off of his neck, almost meeting Richie in a kiss before stopping short, breathing harshly against Richie’s mouth while he takes over, grinding down forcefully. 

“ _ Oh,  _ fuck _ yeah _ .” Richie breathes, and Bill pulls on his curls again. Richie moans against Bill’s mouth. He grips Bill’s waist tighter, and it’s Bill’s turn to hiss. 

“_Harder_, Bill. Oh, _just_ _like_ _that_.” 

Bill hums, slowing his hips slightly. 

“I thought you w-wanted to fuck, Richie.” 

Richie huffs. 

“Yeah, I do but-  _ ah _ !” Richie yelps when Bill tugs hard on his hair again. Bill is smirking down at him. “Stop using my kinks against me!” 

Bill chuckles against his lips. 

“It’s t-too easy, Rich.” Bill reaches down to pop the button on Richie’s jeans, and drag the zipper down. 

Richie gives him an incredulous look, one eyebrow cocked. Oh, he thinks  _ Richie _ is easy?  _ Two can play at that game, Billy _ . 

Bill hooks his fingers in the belt loops of Richie’s jeans. Right when he’s about to pull them off, Richie curls his hand around the back of Bill’s neck. He pulls Bill down, his lips gracing Bill’s ear. 

“ _ Are you gonna fuck me, Bill? _ ” 

Richie’s other hand grips at the small of Bill’s back, nails biting the skin, just the way Bill likes it. 

_ “I know you want to. I know you want it hard, too.”  _

Richie feels Bill’s shoulders tense up, his lower back, too. 

“ _ I know you want to fuck me so hard I scream. _ ” 

He hears Bill fail to stifle a groan behind his lips. 

“ _ Oh, yeah, I know what you like. You wanna pull my hair and bite my skin and grip my hips _ .” 

Richie feels Bill panting against his neck. 

“ _ And you want me to drag my nails across your skin. _ ” Richie scratches long lines down the middle of Bill’s back. Bill hisses. “ _ To move hard against you. _ ” Richie nips his ear, his hand clenching around the back of Bill’s throat for just a moment. “ _ And you want me to murmur dirty things in your ear while you fuck me into the mattress _ .” 

Richie cups the front of Bill’s sweats. He can feel that Bill’s not wearing anything underneath. Bill’s hips buck hard against his hand, and he moans a quiet  _ fuck _ against Richie’s neck. Richie chuckles darkly in his ear.

“ _ Now who’s easy? _ ” Bill huffs and kisses Richie harshly. 

Richie’s jeans and Bill’s sweats come off quickly after that. They kiss and tease each other for awhile. Bill keeps his hand threaded in Richie’s hair, pulling and twisting every so often. And Richie keeps his hand on Bill’s back, digging and dragging his nails up and down, decorating Bill’s back with long red lines. 

Richie, getting impatient, breaks the kiss with a  _ come on, Bill _ , tugging on Bill’s cock teasingly. And Bill gives in quite easily at that, reaching over to his nightstand to get lube. 

And now, Bill’s got three fingers inside him, dragging and pushing against his sensitive skin. He moves slowly, and Richie guesses it’s because Bill  _ knows _ he likes it hard. He’s sure that Bill only teases  _ him _ , never Eddie or Stan or any of the other like this. And it’s not fair, Richie thinks, because he didn’t do anything to deserve this torture but Bill doesn’t seem to care. 

Richie is about to tell him to  _ just fuck him _ but Bill’s fingers graze that bundle of nerves inside him and and groans lowly. He grips Bill’s wrist, pushing it in  _ harder _ , wanting those fingers  _ deeper _ , and he feels Bill chuckle against him. 

Then he  _ does _ tell Bill to stop it and  _ fuck him _ . 

And Bill is doing just that. 

Richie is still on his back, one leg hooked on Bill’s hip. His hands grasp Bill’s back. They grip into the small of Bill’s back, then move up towards the center of his spine, then to his shoulders, repeatedly, leaving red marks in their wake. Bill has Richie’s hip in his tight grip. He bites at Richie’s lips, while he moves his hips harshly against Richie’s. His other hand rests against Richie’s head. Occasionally, he’ll move his middle finger closer, tangling it in a few curls and tugging. 

Richie hisses at a particularly hard thrust, while Bill hums around his bottom lip. 

It’s good,  _ really good _ . Richie opens his mouth to tell Bill to go harder and faster. 

But they’re interrupted.

By a ringing noise. 

From Bill’s cellphone on the nightstand. 

Bill stops, ignoring Richie’s  _ what the fuck, dude _ , and looks to see who it is. 

“It’s E-Eddie.” 

Richie reaches over and grabs it before Bill can stop him. He tries to take it out of Richie’s hands, but Richie answers it.

“Hey, Eds. What can I do for you on this fine and boring afternoon?” 

Bill glares at him. 

“ _ Richie? Why did you answer Bill’s phone? _ ” 

“Oh, he left it in the kitchen.” Richie says smoothly, without hesitation. “Did you need something?”

“ _ He asked me to pick up a specific folder to keeps his manuscript in, but I don’t remember which one it was _ .” 

Bill opens his mouth to speak, but Richie clamps his hand over it. 

“Oh, well he’s pretty busy and I don’t want to bother him.” 

“ _ Oh, ok. I can get it tomorrow- _ ” 

“But me? I’m doing absolutely nothing right now.” Richie smirks at the playful glint in Bill’s eye, winking at him. “How was your day?” 

“ _ The usual. Nothing exciting except there was this one lady that came in, though. She was a total bitch. She- _ “ 

Bill thrusts inside Richie,  _ hard _ , and Richie yanks his hand back from Bill’s mouth to cover his own. Eddie continues with his story, while Bill tries to get a noise out of Richie, pistoning his hips, pulling on Richie’s curls. Richie keeps his mouth covered, but every once in a while he’ll give Eddie a  _ oh that sucks _ , or a  _ mhm go on _ . 

It doesn’t last long, though. Eddie’s day wasn’t all that interesting, and after a minute or two, he asks Richie how his day was. But Richie doesn’t hear it. 

“ _ Rich? _ ” 

Richie opens his mouth to ask him to repeat the question, but Bill leans down and bites his neck, almost hard enough to draw blood.

“ _ Oh, fuck _ .” Richie moans loudly. He tenses, and Bill smiles against his neck.

“ _ Richie, what the fuck?! _ ” Eddie shrieks in his ear. Richie pulls the phone away, not wanting his eardrums to blow out. He puts it on speaker and sets it down on the pillow next to him. “ _ Are you fucking touching yourself right now? While I’m telling you about my  _ work _ ?! _ ” 

“...not exactly.” 

Bill sniggers into his neck quietly. 

“ _ What does that- _ “ 

And in the silence, Richie figures that Eddie put the pieces together. 

“ _ I can’t believe you two. _ ” 

Richie chuckles but Bill stays hidden in Richie’s neck, like he’s embarrassed. _Fucking_ _hypocrite_. 

“You can’t? This seems pretty on brand for us.” 

“S-sorry Eddie.” 

They hear Eddie’s loud sigh. And then it’s quiet for a moment. And Richie, as usual, breaks the silence. 

“...so can we continue?” They hear Eddie sputter on the line. Bill looks at him, slightly shocked. Richie shrugged his shoulders. “Come  _ on _ . It was gettin’ good and I’m still  _ very _ turned on.” 

Bill laughs, but he doesn’t move. Richie thinks he’s waiting for Eddie’s approval. Richie moves to kiss Bill, slowly, deeply, dragging his tongue in Bill’s mouth. He feels Bill relaxing, feels him opening up to the idea. 

“Come on, Bill. Give Eddie something to listen to.” He murmurs against Bill’s lips. 

“ _ Richie _ -” Eddie mumbles. 

Richie moves his hips against Bill’s slowly, trying to pull him in, to  _ entice _ him. 

“ _ Fuck me, Bill _ .” Bill’s hips thrust involuntarily against Richie’s, pulling a quiet groan out of him. “ _ Yeah, like that _ .” Richie grips Bill’s hips, moving them. And Bill gives in. 

Bill starts to fuck him, his hips speeding up again, almost to the speed they were at earlier. Richie lets out groans and whines against Bill’s lips. But, Bill bites his lips, trying to keep quiet. Richie pulls Bill’s lip free with his thumb. 

“ _ Wanna hear you, Bill. Eddie wants to hear you. _ ” They both hear a Eddie breathe out a quiet  _ yeah _ . Bill screws his eyes shut. “ _ There’s no one else home. You can be as loud as you want. _ ” Richie sings, and Bill groans. Richie hears Eddie suck in a quick breath.

“ _ Actually, it’s almost 5. You know who should be home by now is _ -”

And Eddie is interrupted by a small knock on Bill’s door, followed by the sound of it opening. Richie and Bill quickly glance at the door, being opened by Ben. 

“Hey, Bill. I need to borrow-” Ben’s eyes widen, and he goes red. He opens his mouth and closes it repeatedly, frozen on the spot. 

“Hey, Ben.” Richie says casually, batting his lashes. Ben swallows hard at that. Richie internally smiles. He clenches around Bill, drawing a groan out of him, which he quickly silences.

Richie sees Ben’s hand clench on the door knob. He thinks about moving his hips, getting Bill to continue while Ben watches them. He thinks about Bill’s hips fucking him good, feeling him deep, while Ben sits next to them and just observes Richie. He feels a flush of warmth throughout his body. 

_ Oh, that’s hot _ . 

Richie looks at Bill’s wide eyes, which are fixed on Ben. Bill’s breathing pretty hard, too. Richie thinks that, maybe they’re thinking the same thing. Maybe, they’re both picturing the same sexy scenario… 

Ben suddenly finds his voice. 

“Uh… sorry. Sorry! I didn’t-! I, um… I just needed-“ And Ben jumps suddenly. Richie sees a hand curl on Ben’s shoulder slowly. A very recognizable hand. He sees soft brown curls before he sees Stan’s face in the doorway. 

“Ben? Are you ok? What’s-” Stanley steps next to Ben to peer into the room. Surprise flashes in his eyes, for a moment, like he most definitely wasn’t expecting to see Bill fucking Richie. Richie sees Stan’s eyes linger on Bill’s, sees them trail slowly over Bill’s body. Stan then looks up to meet Richie’s gaze. His dark hazel eyes send another wave of heat through Richie’s body. Richie swallows thickly, barely suppressing a whimper. 

But Stan heard it. The corner of his lips curl up. 

_ Oh shit _ , Richie thinks.  _ I’m in it now _ . 

Then, he thinks about Bill fucking him while Stan watches. He thinks about those intense hazel eyes boring into his own, making his entire body quiver with desire. 

Richie lets out a quiet whine. Bill’s eyes snap to his.

“Is this t-turning you on, Richie?” He whisper-yells at Richie. Richie looks at Bill’s shocked face. 

“Can you blame me?! Look at those sexy guys over there!” 

Bill opens his mouth to retaliate, but a movement from the door catches their eyes. 

Stan has a firm hand on Ben’s shoulder, leading him into the bedroom. He quietly closes the door behind them. He makes hard eye contact with Richie, before clicking the lock. 

Ben looks mildly uncomfortable, staring at Richie, but aroused. He lets Stan gently walk him closer to Bill’s bed, right next to Richie. 

Meanwhile, Stan is still looking at Richie with an intense hunger. It makes Richie feel like melting into a puddle. 

Stan moves Ben in front of him so he’s closer to the bed. He guides Ben down to his knees with firm hands on his shoulders. Ben tentatively goes down, but doesn’t move any closer. Stan sits on the bed next to Bill, still looking at Richie. 

Yes, Stan is still staring at him, while  _ he _ stares at Stan. While Bill stares at Stan. While Ben stares at Richie. 

Stan slowly turns to face Bill, lifting his hand to rest his fingers softly on Bill’s chin. He gives Richie one last glance, before pulling Bill in for a soft kiss. He lets Bill chase him for a moment, and Richie watches as he gives in and lets Bill’s tongue enter his mouth. Richie swallows hard when Stan’s eyes flutter open for a moment, meeting his gaze, before closing again. 

Richie turns his eyes to Ben, who’s still giving him a nervous look. It’s not that he and Ben have never had any sexual encounters. Hell, they’re all in this relationship together. They’ve been in all different combinations of all different numbers. But, in the beginning, Ben struggled slightly with the thought of having sex with other men, even though he really did love them all. It was a process for all of them, finding out what was comfortable, what was not, and what their relationship really was. Richie supposed that Ben hasn’t had very many relations with more than one of the others at a time, since that’s when he’s most comfortable. He likes to be able to utterly please whichever partner he’s with, and that can be difficult where there are more than one. 

But, Richie wants Ben to be comfortable. He wants Ben to enjoy this. 

He leans closer, in Ben’s space, drawing him in, making it feel like it’s only the two of them there together. And Ben starts to respond to it, visibly relaxing, letting his hands rest on the bed, instead of where they were, glued to his sides. Richie wants him to lean in, too. Wants him to  _ want _ this. So, he stays where he is, pleading with hooded eyes. He lets the corner of his lip turn up. 

Ben’s expression isn’t so uneasy anymore. His eyes have softened, and he looks more relaxed. He leans over Richie, and Richie moves to cup his jaw. Ben moves down, ready to connect their lips. 

But, Bill suddenly moves his hips  _ hard _ . 

And Richie breaks away before they kiss to moan low and  _ long _ . 

He turns to see Stan smirking, his head resting on Bill’s shoulder. Bill’s eyes are shut tight, while one of Stan’s hand plays with the ends of his auburn locks. The other, rests firmly on Bill’s hip, guiding. 

Richie glares at Stanley. He opens his mouth to speak, and Stan immediately grips Bill’s hip, pushing forward and Bill thrusts again. Richie cuts off into another moan through his teeth. 

Stan murmurs something in Bill’s ear that Richie doesn’t quite catch. But by the hum that falls from Bill’s lips and the small shudder of his shoulders, Richie guesses it was along the lines of ‘_good_ _boy_’. Bill always responds to that. 

Stan grips Bill’s hips again, guiding him into a steady but slow rhythm. Bill hesitates, furrowing his brow and clenching his hands in the sheets. Stan graces his lips against Bill’s ear.

“ _ He likes it _ .” Stan murmurs, but Bill doesn’t seem to understand. He swallows thickly, and still does not move. “ _ He wants us to watch him, Bill. He wants us to watch you fuck him _ .” 

Richie barely suppresses a whimper. Bill, hesitant at first, catches it. He gives Richie a heated look before letting his hips follow the movements of Stanley’s hand on him. 

It’s a steady rock, slow and deep. With each thrust, Bill’s hips barely brush his thighs and it’s driving Richie  _ crazy _ . Stan keeps his hand firmly on Bill’s waist, and everytime Richie feels Bill try to pick up speed, Stan’s hand clenches. It pulls Bill back, slowing his rhythm. And Richie  _ hates _ it. He hates the teasing, and Stan knows it, too. 

But Stan likes to tease. He likes to build and build, slowly, touch by soft touch, until it feels like Richie’s gonna come, only to stop completely, letting Richie’s heat die down. And then Stan starts it all over again. 

But right now, it’s so much more intense. Stan keeps his dark eyes on Richie while Bill moves inside him. Doesn’t touch him, not even a little. And that not only frustrates Richie more, but sends him on edge. Like at any moment Stan will touch him, and the anticipation drives him wild. 

Stan’s dilated eyes are too much, so Richie turns his gaze to Ben. 

Ben, whose eyes are also dark with intense longing. He also doesn’t move to touch Richie, which Richie absolutely  _ hates _ as well. He’s still kneeling next to the bed, so close to Richie. 

Richie moves one of his hands, going to pull Ben in for a kiss.

“_Stop_ _him_.” Stan commands in Bill’s ear. One of Bill’s hands immediately grips Richie’s wrist, pinning it to the bed. Stan smirks, and Richie would snap back at him if it weren’t so sexy. 

“No touching, Richie. We’re here to only observe, to watch Bill take you apart.” He leans down closer to Richie. Richie swallows thickly at Stan’s hot breath in his ear. “ _ So be a good little slut and let us watch _ .” 

Richie shudders and Stan pulls back smugly. He tangles his hand in Bill’s locks at the base of his head, stroking gently. 

“ _ Continue _ .” 

And Bill obeys. 

Oh, _he_ _obeys_, and Richie doesn’t know whether he should be thankful or pissed because the movement of it is _so_ _good_ but it’s too slow. He needs it faster, _harder_, and Stan, who controls Bill’s hips, knows it. He knows exactly how Richie wants it, like he knew preventing Richie from touching them would have a definite effect on him. 

Richie bites his lip, almost drawing blood. His hand grips at the small of Bill’s back, trying to get closer. Stan is amused, Richie can see it on his face, but he must take pity on him because Richie feels Bill’s hips speed ever so slightly and Richie feels like crying. 

He doesn’t, though. Not really cry, but he can feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes and a definite heat rise in his cheeks. 

Richie keeps Stan’s heated eye contact. He likes the way it makes him feel. The way it makes him feel helpless, not in control. Completely at their mercy. He shudders, closing his eyes when he feels heat starting to coil inside him. 

“Look at us.” Stan commands. Richie shakes his head. Bill stops moving and Richie whimpers.

“ _ Look at us _ .” 

Richie slowly opens his eyes, meeting Stan’s. 

“ _ Good _ .” 

And then Stan murmurs something in Bill’s ear, keeping his eyes on Richie. Bill nods, his locks falling in his face, and starts thrusting in earnest. He grips Richie’s hips, lifting them before picking up speed. Richie lets out moans and whimpers, all the while, keeping his eyes on Stan’s. 

And he’s hot. Richie is burning all over, inside and out. Especially when Stan is looking at him like  _ that _ . And with the knowledge that Ben is also watching him. 

“ _ Fuck _ .” Richie whimpers out when he turns to meet Ben’s gaze. He feels the heat unbearably building in his gut. He’s  _ so close now _ . 

Bill sees it. He sees the way Richie’s eyes water, the stutter of his hips. He hears the whimpers and lusty curses. Bill reaches to touch Richie, to make him come, but Stan grabs his wrist, murmuring into his ear. 

“ _ He doesn’t need it _ .” And Bill seems doubtful. 

But then Richie throws his head back against the pillow, digs his nails into Bill, leaving marks, no doubt. With a low moan, his hips buck hard, once, and Bill keeps going, keeps fucking him through it. 

He’s looking at Ben still, when he comes. He was so close and the way Ben was looking at him sent him over the edge. 

When he comes down, Bill stops moving, and Richie collapses onto the bed. He’s still breathing heavily. 

Stan is smirking into Bill’s neck, placing soft kisses there every so often, still twirling his fingers in Bill’s locks. He reminds Richie of a typical villain. The kind that sit in a large leather chair petting a cat. Stanley certainly has the demeanor of one. 

Ben is looking at him like he’s just witnessed some sort of religious event. His eyes are wide, lips barely parted. Richie chuckles, and leans to place a soft kiss on his lips. 

The tender moment is broken by Eddie’s voice through the phone that, Richie did not hang up on before all this started. 

“ _ I’m coming home,  _ now.” 

  
  
  
  



End file.
